


Apple Pie and Gummy Bears

by bekommissar_is_canon



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, One Shot, Pitch Perfect 2, becommissar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekommissar_is_canon/pseuds/bekommissar_is_canon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca accidentally-on-purpose runs into Kommissar in the middle of the night. One-shot. Prompt from @thebigs-m: “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apple Pie and Gummy Bears

****_Thud-thud-thud._

It was nearing midnight in Copenhagen, host to the 2015 a cappella world championships. Everyone except for Kommissar was in their rooms, sleeping off the jet-lag. She was in the hotel gym, running on the treadmill. Working out alone was a rare treat for her, since Das Sound Machine usually trained together. Sleep was overrated anyway.

As she looked up to check her form in the mirror, she noticed someone rather familiar crack the door open.

“Tiny maus!”

The young girl with make-up too perfect for this hour jumped at the Kommissar’s deep voice. Shoot, she had seen her. The last thing she needed was being alone with a sweaty Kommissar in tight spandex shorts.

“Hey there,” she waved feebly. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else after their last disastrous encounter.

“Past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

“I don’t have a bedtime,” she said indignantly. The Kommissar was drenched in sweat, her tank top pasted to her chiseled abdomen. She tried to avert her eyes from her glistening chest, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

She jumped off the treadmill and approached the cowering brunette, leaving little space between them. “Have you been following me, tiny maus?”

“Duh, you stunning creature,” she scoffed and felt her face turn red. Dammit, she had done it again. Technically, she hadn’t been following her. You couldn’t follow someone if you didn’t know where they were. She had merely gone down to the bar in hopes of running into her, this was purely coincidental.

Kommissar’s mouth curled upwards, sweat glistening on her upper lip. This was the first time she had seen her without make-up.  “I have missed your shameless compliments.”

“Really?” Beca stuttered as she gazed into those cerulean eyes. “I missed you too.” So much for not saying anything.

Kommissar cocked her head. “You missed me?” Beca froze as she pushed a strand off her face. “What exactly did you miss?”

Beca inhaled deeply. “Your sweat smells like cinnamon – dammit!” She turned her head in embarrassment. “That’s it, I’m not saying another word.”

“Oh?” said the Kommissar amusedly. “Next you will be asking for your lawyer, like in your TV shows. Would you like me to read you your rights?”

“That’s not what I’d like you to do,” she muttered.

“What would you like me to do, tiny maus?”

Okay, now she really, really needed to keep her mouth shut.

However, it was hard to keep your mouth shut when a German goddess was prising it open with her tongue. Her mouth was so soft against hers, her cheeks so smooth, so unlike a man’s stubble. She kissed back, she had to kiss back, she had to run her hands through her glistening hair. She felt Commissar press her sweaty, sweet smelling body against hers, her strong thigh push her legs open. Oh, they fit together perfectly, she smelled like apple pie, her head fit just underneath her chin, she had no choice but to give in.

Give in to a woman whose real name she didn’t know.

“Stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Stop,” she repeated, and the Kommissar stiffened, her lips hovering on Beca's neck.

“ _Was_?” she asked, loosening her grip. “What is wrong, my elf?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” she said shrilly. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified! Other than that, everything’s swell!”

The Kommissar stared at her. “Terrified? Of me?”

“Of you, of my feelings, of your talent, your wit!” she said, eyes welling up with tears. “I’m terrified of kissing a scary woman whom I know nothing about! I don’t even know your name!”

The Kommissar looked positively shell-shocked, which gave Beca an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. “My tiny mouse, I never meant to terrify you,” she said finally. She had never heard her speak so softly.

“Well, you did.” She felt fat tears roll down her cheeks. The strain of the past few months had finally caught up with her, and the haughty Kommissar was the final straw. Well, she wasn’t going to pretend anymore. She was going to cry, dammit, and Kommissar would know she had made her cry.

“Get back to your work-out,” she choked. “See you at the Worlds.”

“No, Beca, don’t go!” she exclaimed, grabbing her hand. She had said her name for the first time. It sounded so foreign on her lips. No wonder it did - she was the tiny, feisty mouse, she was the elf, or fairy, or troll, or whatever insult she could hurl at her. Well, she wasn’t going to put up with this anymore.

“I’m going,” she said firmly. She shook off Kommissar’s soft hand – it must be some German moisturizer, even German creams must have automotive perfection – and rushed off to her room to cry herself to sleep.

***

Thank God for jet-lag. Chloe, an already sound sleeper, was snoring loudly as she crept back inside. She washed her face, her carefully applied eyeliner was completely ruined. Well, she wasn’t going to try to copy Kommissar’s eye make-up again. She was imperfect and proud of it. Let the Germans be perfect, in America we’re unique, she thought indignantly.

She stripped off her clothes and fished out her panda onesie. Stupid Europe, it was July and she was still freezing at night. In Germany it must be freezing cold in summer too. Silly country. She pulled the covers over her head and closed her eyes shut. This was just experimentation, everyone did that in college. It didn’t mean she was bisexual. Kiss anybody and you would feel aroused. She could go down and kiss the bald receptionist with the hairy mole and feel aroused.

She shuddered. Okay, bad example. But, say, that tall bellhop. Or Johnny Depp. Yes, she’d so kiss Johnny Depp. So there. Now fall asleep.

Unsurprisingly, she couldn’t fall asleep. It didn’t help that Chloe was snoring like a foghorn. She bet the Kommissar was sleeping soundly, she’d never get insomnia.

Just as she reached for her cellphone, she heard footsteps outside her door. She flung off the covers and jumped up, knocking into the headstand. Great, she had probably broken her small toe. She hobbled to the front door, fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

Nobody was in sight. Her face fell in disappointment. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted it to be Commissar.

She was about to close the door in defeat when her eye caught a scrap of paper on the floor. She picked it up with trembling hands and stared at the tight, slanted handwriting.

_Liebe Beca,_

_I’m more terrified than you can imagine._

_Love,_

_Luisa._

_(I have a fear of heights and a gummy bear addiction.)_

She carefully folded the precious note and smiled. There should be gummy bears in the vending machine down the hall.


End file.
